


A night of reflection

by The_Porg_is_not_impressed



Series: Our own house [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Reylo - Freeform, Two Halves of Reylo, reyloweeklychallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 07:47:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16949910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Porg_is_not_impressed/pseuds/The_Porg_is_not_impressed
Summary: This text is part of a collection of weekly entries written for the Two Halves of Reylo Tumblr community. #ReyloWeeklyChallenge" He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. One. Two. Three seconds. Then, with a thrill of resolution, he again crossed his reflection in the mirror. This time though he concentrated on the one thing that made him forget his sufferings. A paradoxical fact, that he would keep all his life. The thing that prevented him to destroy the mirror.The scar. Her mark. "





	A night of reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Reylo Weekly Challenge n°03 : Scars.

His hands rested against the smooth and cold metal that surrounded him like a cage. His arms, stretched to the extreme, were shaking slightly by dint of pushing against a wall that would not move. His head remained stubbornly downward, for he knew that raising his eyes would mean seeing his shadow. A shadow trapped between his own fingers. A mind torn by his choices. He wasn’t ready yet. He didn’t want to face the inevitable now. So, he kept his eyelids closed and rounded up even more the shoulders and back.

Five minutes more. Just five short minutes to pretend that nothing had importance or consequence. Five unfortunate minutes of respite to forget the pain and horror of what he had done and continued to do. Forget everything except the almost boiling water that flowed abundantly along his body, without being able to relax his muscles, or wash his mistakes.

There, without anybody to judge him, he could pretend that what was flowing on his cheeks was not tears. That he was just taking a shower after an intensive training. That he didn’t care to be more alone than ever. That he didn’t lose everything by thinking to take it all. That the sweet face with wild eyes that obsessed him didn’t matter. That his mother wasn’t dead. That he had not killed his father.

Elsewhere, somewhere in the unfathomable abyss that was become his heart, there had no war. Snoke had never existed. His family wasn’t torn apart. The girl from nowhere had not rejected him. And he was still a little anxious man, sometimes too serious, but very sweet, smiling, and terribly desperate to be understood and loved, without feeling any shame.

Nobody was afraid of his powers. Nobody was trying to manipulate him. Nobody had chosen to abandon him. He was trusted. There was still hope…

He opened his eyes sharply, shocked that his thoughts had drifted so far away. He had not let his imagination to express itself since that famous night at the Temple. When his life was become a hell of which he had naively thought he could accommodate himself.  
Jaw tight on the sob that he repressed, he left the shower with a cloud of steam, took a towel barely long enough to go around his waist. While he wiped his face and the rest of his body, his footsteps mechanically guided him to what he now feared as much as his nightmares.

The mirror.

It was just, however, a banal polished surface made to reflect light and objects, not an open door to the Darkness, their sibylline voices and unsatisfactory answers. It was not what the Scavenger had faced without fear. 

No.

However, he feared more than anything he would see. What he saw for many years but never fully realized before the disappearance of his Master.  
At this moment, in the mirror, naked, without artifice or protection, he saw himself. Him. Only him. Not Kylo Ren. Not Ben Solo. No Darkness. No Light. Just him. A massive body made for fight.

A weapon. An empty shell with old eyes.  
A broken thing that had neither the desire nor the strength to rebuild itself. Not anymore.

Lost. He felt completely lost. For the first time in his entire life, he was free to think for himself. There was no more perfidious voice to push him to act. To comfort him in his actions. He was the only master of his choices and should face every consequence. Alone. He should have been relieved now that he was accountable only to himself. He thought he was relieved.

But the mirror, cruel and without clemency, sent him back all he was and everything he would never be. And that destroyed him.  
He clenched his fists, so strong that it was painful.

Before, he would have already reduced to rubble his reflection. Tonight, he was unable to do that. Again. The silence in his head had become deafening. He was no more than doubt, confusion and apprehension. The only thing he was certain to know, is that he was a monster.

A monster without real purpose, relieved of its substance. Even the force and his constant solicitations was quiet. His double in the mirror would send back a pathetic picture. He was paler than usual and his features were pulled by anxiety. Lately, he felt constantly falling into the gaping hole that Snoke had left in his mind. A hole he nearly could see when he was a student his face in the glass.

Since he became Supreme Leader he was doing everything by automatism. Eating had become secondary. Sleep was a horrible temptation he avoided at all costs. He had become a wreck and a part of him knew that he deserved it. Because he had blood on his hands. His own blood.  
The mirror was saying that he would never have peace. He knew it.

He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. One. Two. Three seconds. Then, with a thrill of resolution, he again crossed his reflection in the mirror. This time though he concentrated on the one thing that made him forget his sufferings. A paradoxical fact, that he would keep all his life. The thing that prevented him to destroy the mirror.

The scar.

He raised his hand, slowly followed the path traced on his skin by the Lightsaber of his grandfather. Unlike the empty shell that he had become, this, this was real. Palpable. Too gentle punishment for his many crimes, and a constant reminder that there was someone in the vastness of the universe that was like him. His equal in strength. In all.

Rey.

She had put her mark on his body and his mind. In many ways she had taken possession of him. Somehow, this face was now a little of her. But not like the thousands of brands that were digging the walls of his AT-AT. No. Count the days had quickly ceased to be its main goal. Mark the wall had become a habit, a ritual, perhaps for proved she was still there and would not abandon. He had walked in her memories and thought he knew exactly what she was thinking in these moments there. But what of this scar ? He knew that she saw the monster in first, when she watched him. Before the Bond… And now ? He was unable to interpret the last look she gave to him and couldn’t read her mind without indulging himself in her judgment.

He had the impression to see her clearly, while remaining blind to what she really was. He wanted to understand her… because he had the impression that understanding her would help him to understand himself.

He had not seen her since Crait. Almost a week. Just felt echoes of her mood through the Bond. Anger. Determination. Joy. Sadness. And something more. Something he couldn’t not to completely grasp, understand. An intense, strange, almost pure emotion. Also strong as the desire to wait for the return of parents who did not think about her anymore for a long time. Also bitter as all the nights she had spent alone in not being able to sleep. Also burning and ruthless as Jakku desert. Also delicious as the simple pleasure of discovering the vegetation of Takodana. Also fresh as the contact of the rain on her skin. Also new and mysterious than to see the ocean for the first time without knowing what lies beneath the surface.

He felt troubled by this strange swirl of sensations and memories. When she was overwhelmed by this sense of fragile balance, her presence in the Force and his head was so strong that he could think of nothing else than their hands together outside of space and time, their perfect union against the Praetorian Guard. And confidence, the exhilarating realization that they would never have to be alone again…

A deep sigh escaped him while he let fall his hand along his body. She had chosen. She was gone. What she felt was not his problem. This complex and indescribable thing that lit up her side of the Bond didn’t even have a name for her. So, it didn’t have a name for him either. He would seek no answer to fill the void.

And because he had forgotten what it was to love, or because it was too painful to remember what it was, he refused to dwell on his own feelings. He constantly resisted her discreet calls, that he considered involuntary. He was struggling against the furious desire to see her, even for a second, appear before him by a whim of the Force.

Resolutely, he prepared himself for the night and left the bathroom. He did not really understand why his scars please him. Why Rey had become the center of his universe, even while he should hate her to having left him for dead.

He lay down in his vast bed, the face turned to the vastness of space. He didn’t want to sleep. He was running away from the sleep since Crait. He was afraid to see his father’s face, and the rest. This fear of dreaming about ghosts gnawed at him from inside. So, generally, he was content to observe the stars an hour or two, without ever doze off, before returning to practice training.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he felt the pleasant presence of Rey at the other end of the Bond. She was exhausted but serene. He could not resist the urge to soak up her soft Light, and before he could realize it, he was asleep.

*

When Ben appeared beside her on the bed, Rey was so surprised that she nearly hit him with the book she had just closed. She stopped herself in time, shared between the relief to see him finally and anger of not being able to pour all her bitterness on him.

He had disappointed her terribly, and the fact that she felt his torment through the Bond, in the rare moments where she had time for her, arranged nothing. With a resigned sigh, she put the book into the drawer of her bedside table. Jedi texts not brought her anything she didn’t already know, but she was beginning to understand the choice of Luke. Even if killing this knowledge was not the best solution, she recognized willingly that apply the Code without any reflection would be a mistake. The Galaxy needed something new. But what ? That was the question.

She focused on Ben, mechanically rubbed the wound inflicted by the Praetorian. The brand, two snakes trying to bite, or two hands extended towards each other, was gently pulsing on her arm. Even healed, the pain remained sharp. In his head. In his heart. She had other scars of course, most impressive and bleached by time, but this one had a special meaning. And it would stay red. As the throne room before the fire. As the armors of Praetorians. As the blood of Ben on the snow. As his lightsaber.

She felt a wave of sadness invade her and quickly drove back the tears. She was not the one who had betrayed him. Not really…  
She looked at his face, strangely calm. She knew that he wasn’t sleeping much. Not at all even. She felt him constantly fussing from his side of the Bond, despite his efforts to don’t give her access to his moods. But the fact was that he couldn’t hide much thing to her. They could lie to themselves, but not to each other. Which, in the current context was a certain disability.

Rey thought that not seeing him was enough to give him some protection. However, it was quite the opposite. Feel Ben’s emotions as if they were hers, guessing that it was mutual, had something of very destabilizing. Especially when they had not yet had the opportunity to talk about the events of Crait. Whether it was possible to discuss it.

For now, she allowed herself to be captivated by the presence, in his bed, one of human beings the most feared of the Galaxy. She was not afraid of him. Not since their first fight. Part of her didn’t wants to worry about what he might become. But she couldn’t help herself. Just like Ben couldn’t help but be interested in her.

Without a sound, she changed her position to be able to look him better. As she was sitting to his right, she had plenty of time to study his most impressive scar. Her brand. She wouldn’t apologize for it, never. Regret such a thing would be insulted all those for who she had fought him on Starkiller, in the snow and cold. Ben himself would not ask her to do such a thing, nor would blame her for his injury. They were warriors. No matter the link which bound them together now, traded shots would not be resumed.

This didn’t prevent Rey to have compassion for him, as well as some curiosity. Ben was complex, at least as introverted as she. He was massive, strong, capable of anything. And, something she never imagined to thinking about him, he was handsome man, more courteous than herself in a moment of anger, and is eyes were more mesmerizing than anything she had ever known. In many ways, Ben Solo was the most fascinating being that either she had met.

See him so deeply asleep was added to the list of reasons why she regretted so bitterly that a war separates them. She wanted to share moments as peaceful as this one without feeling guilty. She was hungry for the feeling of fullness that only Ben brought to her.

She cast a quick glance in the direction of the door, hit the lock with the Force. Nobody would bother her. She had the Bond open just for her. Nothing could stop her to enjoy this moment.  
When her attention went back to Ben, he had moved. His face was turned towards her and his hair fell over his brow, hiding his eyes a little. His shirtless, discovered to the navel, heaved to the rhythm of a quiet breath. He was breathtaking. And he didn’t know that she was there. Also, like when she was discovering a flower still alive in the desert, she was seized by an irresistible desire to touch him.

She didn’t know where exactly this intense desire came from. She didn’t understand why it had to be Ben and nobody else. She knew only one thing. She desperately wanted to touch him. Why she always wanted to touch him ? Her dreams were only made with moments during which, for some reason that was, she plunged a hand into his ebony hair, while the other relished the contact of his skin. A skin marked by hardship of a fight, but whose touch was neither rough nor unpleasant, just sweet.

Would it be the same as the first time, on Ahch-To, or as in her fantasies ?

She needed this contact to find out. Her fingers were already close to redraw the contours of the scar of Ben, her body leaning toward his, anticipating the encounter from their skins.  
Rey knew she should not push her luck. It was not right to take advantage of the sleep of Ben. Neither for him. Neither for her. Because he would have never let her to do that if he had been awake, and she would not have dared even think to try. Besides, she had a little afraid to receive another vision of the Force, or that a shock as powerful as that felt on Ahch-To does wake Ben if she put a hand on him. He could attack.

But Rey of Jakku had not survived this long time without taking risks. She was acting and responding only by instinct. Ben had said that he be able to take what he wants from her, but never did it. Partly. She never had that kind of consideration. In the desert. Not when she was so thirsty that her throat seemed burned. Not now, when her body begged her to reach the man for who the Resistance could considered her like a traitor.

She trembled with excitement, preparing for the worst and the best. Attracted by Ben like a plant need water, she bent again, held her breath, and finally laid fingers on his cheek, his scar.  
No vision. No abrupt and violent awakening. Nothing for disturbed the silence. The Force had simply hummed between them. Calmly. And if there was no big shock, Rey felt a heat wave rise up along her arm, and take possession of her body. It was good. Nice. Ben was here with her, and her loneliness had vanished. She does not smile, in case he would finally open his eyes, but her heart danced with joy in her chest.

Confident, she followed the drawing of the scar until the torso sturdy and firm of Ben. And it was better than anything her mind could imagine. Her hand was back and forth between his face and his abdomen. It was almost like cuddling a Porg. A strange thought, that made her almost laugh. She couldn’t believe what she was doing, it was like a dream. A very dangerous dream.  
At a such late hour, while she felt sleepy, she no longer saw Kylo Ren nor Ben Solo lying near her, just a man exhausted, plagued by anxiety, who, in his sleep, no longer seemed inhabited by the conflict. Under her gaze, this man was a quiet strength, a torrent that rumbled slowly. The calm before the storm. He seemed ready to wake at the slightest noise. She knew that he would be able to melt on her in less than a second if necessary. Like a predator on his prey. However, despite all the threat that Ben could represent, that night, he seemed incredibly vulnerable. Soft. Almost in demand of caresses. Of care.

And no one, other than she, had seen him like that for a long time. Since Luke.  
If only she had known him earlier. Things might have been different.

Rey frowned, it was useless to rehashing the Past. Not when the Future was so close to take a radical turn. Not when the Present showed Ben to her as she had never seen him before. With him by her side, it was so easy to forget everything. She was so thankful to have him for her tonight. So eager to embrace this scar which meant that he was alive, that he could still change.  
Her hand met Ben’s hair. Gently, she disengaged his eyes, his forehead. He seemed so young, as young as she. Was it the sleep effect ? A consequence to the absence of negative emotions ? Both?  
Before she could find a satisfactory answer, Ben awoke, seized her wrist to keep her hand away from his face. He didn’t hurt her, but she felt he would bite her if she tried to escape.

A full minute passed without that nothing happens. Then, finally, Ben let her go and she brought her hand close to her stomach.  
“ You haunt me at night now, Scavenger ? ”

His stentor voice was more deep and sensual that she remembered. His eyes was still veiled by the haze of sleep. Rey was not optimistic enough to think one second that he thought dream. But she implored the Force for this to be the case. So, she shrugged off falsely flippant manner, to pretend that the situation was normal. And, despite the common sense, she allowed herself to settle more comfortably near him, hip against hip, while she crossed legs. In response, Ben growled by massaging his face.

“ You shouldn’t be here. ”

Where ? In his dream ? In his room ? The border between the two seemed so thin.

“ I know Ben, but I can’t do anything about it, you neither. ”

He sighed in frustration. The conflict was back. She could feel him relieved to see her again, a little angry, and he didn’t know what attitude to adopt.

“ You have chosen… I have chosen… we can’t go back… ”

Rey cashed his words like a slap. This was painful, really painful, to hear a beginning of sobbing in his voice, to saw only despair and defeat in his eyes, to have compassion for a man who no longer seemed to care, to realize that he was right and that she wanted to give him wrong. Before Ahch-To, before the Bond, he could say anything, that would not have hurt her. But now, with her soul screaming every night because she feels empty and alone without him, Ben’s words were a blow in the heart.

And thus, the sadness that she had turned away earlier returned. With one tear. A single tear on her right cheek, in reflection of the scar of Ben.  
She believed hear him thinking that he wanted to delete this. Gently. Because her tear was a plea, answering a question that none of them had dared posed.

\- Why not being able to be with you is so painful ? -

She saw Ben’s hand get close to her face. All also unconsciously that did hers when she had not resisted the temptation to touch his skin. He was so close to the touch her when she slightly opened lips. For take a deep breath. A breath that she would only release once his gesture is complete. She was waiting for he touches her, wanted it more than anything. But she was a little afraid that her dreams become real. Too real.

Ben seemed to understand, so he turned his attention back to the wound that was marking her shoulder. And that would probably stay red.

“ Does it hurt ? ”

He brushed her gently, and to gesture tender, in addition to surprise her, made her shiver of well-being.

“ Not anymore… ”

He nodded and intensified his caress. She let him do so, aware that moment of delusion may never happen again. The attention he gave to her, gave her some hope. However, she didn’t want to rush things, suffer. She needed him as much as he needed her. Obvious that none of them could accept it. Not when everything remained to be done. Not at the expense of a war. She was not ready. Ben either. But she wanted to believe that he would be able to change before it’s too late.  
He had to catch her feeling, because his face contracted in a resigned expression. Again.

“ I’m a monster … the mirror shows it, you think it … and you’re right. ”  
“ Well we distort the reality. You are a monster yes, for those who are satisfied with only one truth. You’ve always been more than that, you’ve become more than that, Ben, for me, you are… ”

\- What is he for me ? What are we ? -

“ Nothing. Don’t say something you’ll regret. Don’t try to save me. My actions speak for me, I know what I’m… ”  
“ What you are is not who you are Ben. Why don’t you want to see it ? ”

He stopped touching her, put his hand on his chest. She thought she saw the shadow of a smile blossom on his beautiful face, while she moaned at the loss of his contact. But it didn’t last.

“ Rey, that’s the problem… I can see it now. ”

He looked at her scar in pronouncing his words, just as she contemplated his. Silence fell between them, each enjoying each other’s company without being able to admit. Here and now, by a miracle of the Force, they were nobody. No one for the Galaxy, but all one for the other. They were again on Ahch-To, into the stone hut, near the fire, where only the Present could exist. Comforted by this memory, Rey gave way to the desire to lie down with Ben. They barely touched each other, but it was like the Force melted them into each other. They were calm. In peace. No Darkness. No Light. Just the balance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, feel free to leave a comment, it is always a pleasure. ^^  
> I said that English is not my mother tongue and I don't have a Beta reader, so I apologize for the mistakes.
> 
> If you want, you can find me on my main blog; til-lyanae.tumblr.com


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